Before arriving in this little country, I'd been warned about how nice the people are. Sounds great! I'll make friends left and right! But it doesn't happen that way. It's not as if people fawn over you in the streets. It's the little things that add up to form the Kiwi Kindness. The sign at the gas pump says to "give a friendly wave" if you require assistance. People who exit at the rear of the bus yell "thank you, driver!" to the front. A waiter called me "sister" (and I ain't no nun).
That's all pleasant enough, but frankly, the Kiwi Kindness gets on my nerves. Consumer transactions commonly turn into full conversations. Sometimes this is fine, but sometimes I just want to pay for my candy and get on with life. This is no USA: "How are you?... Good, you?.... Fine, thanks." This is NZ: "How's your day been so far?" Or even worse: "What have you been up to today?" None of your damn business.
The phrasing of these questions eliminates the possibility of a one-word answer. But even a one-word answer reveals your American (or Canadian?) accent and things escalate from there. For instance, I know that my young Kiwi male grocery store cashier thinks Auckland is soulless and is saving money to fly to Los Angeles and buy a car. I'd warn him that LA is soulless too, but my groceries are bagged, and it's time to move on.
In other retail news, the Kiwis are very conscientious about protecting the consumer. Again, this is annoying. Cashiers closely compare your credit card signature to your receipt signature. I always forget and put the credit card back in my wallet. They make me take it out again! I have to be careful to give every receipt the fully legible "Maureen C...." it deserves. This takes two whole seconds off my day. Over time, my American signature has devolved into something like "M-eeC-y." I was once praised as having the best capital cursive J in the 3rd grade class, but alas, I have not stuck with the Palmer Method of Penmanship drilled into me by the sisters of the Immaculate Heart of Mary. Like I said, I ain't no nun.
Wednesday, October 1, 2008
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3 comments:
This sounds similar to the Japanese requirement that I be photographed during each hour of my trip. I have a few pictures of me with a very annoyed facial expression. I have to say, I regret that. They were just trying to be nice.
I do know what you mean though - I used to dread coming home at night for fear that I would have to talk to our gate person. Sometimes, it was fine, but other times, I just wanted him to lift the gate so I could get home!!
I just realized that my comment post time must be for your time zone! I just posted this tomorrow.
Wacky!
The same thing happened to me in Japan! The schoolkids always wanted to get their pictures taken with us, and they flashed the peace sign in every picture.
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